


A Second Encounter

by AngelWars



Series: Vox Vignettes [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Banter, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Pre-Relationship, Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:19:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24951448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelWars/pseuds/AngelWars
Summary: After their chance meeting at the festival of lights on Naboo, Quinlan decided that if he ever crossed paths with Commander Fox again, he'd repay the life debt he'd incurred when the Commander saved him. He doubts they'll ever cross paths again, but Vos is prepared to save him if they do.Unfortunately for Vos, their second meeting comes sooner than he could predict.
Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox & Quinlan Vos
Series: Vox Vignettes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1805833
Comments: 12
Kudos: 61
Collections: Commander Fox





	1. Chapter One: Life Debt Doubled

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!!
> 
> Welcome to my second Vox fanfic! This is a continuation of 'First Impression'. 
> 
> I do hope you enjoy!!

"Master Yoda, are you _sure?"_ Quinlan barely keeps the frustration out of his voice. He stifles a groan of annoyance when the grandmaster of the order replies.

"Hmmm. Certain of anything, I am not. Clouded times these are—clouded by darkness and danger. Go quickly, find them you must. Before they leave Coruscant to retrieve their next shipment."

"Yes, Master." He bows his head in compliance, seething internally. He can't get the blasted Commander from his last mission off his mind. He shakes his head to clear it. He needs to focus.

* * *

Fox buries his face in his hand with an aggravated sigh. He attempts to knead the tension from his bruised hip, still healing from the Festival of Light.

_'I wonder what that trouble that di'kut is getting up to,'_ he wonders to himself, before forcing himself to focus on the report in front of him—the report signed by the chancellor, asking Fox to lead a squad down to the lower levels to investigate a potential lead on the Pyke Syndicate's spice smuggling activities right here on Coruscant. 

"Alor?"

Fox jumps, turning in alarm to find Stone waiting patiently for him. He waves his fellow Commander in.

"Sir, you wanted to see me?" He sounds vaguely curious. 

The head-commander nods slowly. "Yes. We've received a request from the chancellor himself to investigate the lower levels. We have a lead on potential Pyke Syndicate activities."

He takes a breath, "Commander Stone, I need you to gather some of our best so we can root this out. We've been asked _directly_ by the chancellor himself. We can't let him down."

"I'll get right on it immediately, sir," Stone nods with respect before he turns and heads out the door. It slid closed with a soft 'woosh'. And Fox is left alone once again.

_‘I hope this won't be too difficult and I hope I won't end up losing any men. It's hard getting more Coruscant guards as is.’_

Fox scowls. 

_‘I doubt that it'll be easy though.’_

He stares at the papers, deep within his own troubled thoughts; and then he quickly gathers up his things before he heads for the door.

With the clones’ departure, the room plunges again into silence. The data pads strewn across the desk blink off in the absence of anyone using them.

* * *

The Coruscant Security Department’s front lobby is always bustling with activity—busy as a bee hive with officers and troops scrambling back and forth constantly. Flimsi stuck to the floor near desks, like flies on glue traps. Squads, individuals, and security droids return from their shifts either empty handed or with arrested criminals in tow, and newly arrived individuals wander into the precinct in various stages of alertness. 

Fox walks past the chaos, unfazed by the unruliness. It's always like this and he's used to it all at this point. 

His men, especially the rookies, salute as he passes by. It’s unnecessary; he pays them little mind anyway. The squad he had requested is already assembled and waiting near the main entrance. They’re the best of the best. Nine men. Stone stands at the head of the squad at parade rest, straightening to attention when Fox draws close. He and the others salute their Commander as he slows to a stop in front of them. 

"I've briefed them on what's expected of us and this mission, sir." Stone explains stiffly. Fox nods and slips his Coruscant-Guard-red helmet over his head. "Very good, Commander Stone. Move out." His voice rumbles through the voice modulator, husky from lack of adequate sleep, but strong. 

Fox braces himself to jog out and Stone nods to the others. "Come on, men!" He calls. They all follow their commanders, trotting behind them. The squad steadily hops onto one of their many LAATs and after they all settle in the middle the ship lifts into the air. The seasonably warm breeze flutters past them as they take off. The Coruscanti skyline is beautiful at this time of the night. With the moon high in the sky, the vibrant neon lights that shine within the city, and the many skeeters and shuttles that flew by them.

Beyond all that beauty lies their destination, glowing an eerie preternatural green. Their LAAT heads straight for the lower levels, also known as the Underworld. 

The hiss of exhaust huffing out of a metal pipe sounds off on the other side of the durasteel barrier behind his head as the shuttle comes to a stop, finally, on an available platform. Quinlan slips the waist-length brown robe over his shoulders, pulling the hood up before departing his shuttle and paying the platform caretaker enough to avoid questions and buy his silence. His boots make no noise as he slides into and between the shadows, stealing touches on the wall and ground as he tracks his prey.

He pauses when one such touch brings an unexpected vision. The Commander who had saved his life on Naboo, and several others from the guard as well.

_'Things just got more complicated.’_

Fox leads the way, following their intel to a seedy bar. It's loud enough that most smuggler's operations can go on undetected. Self-consciousness floods him, and Fox casts a glance at his men.

_‘We stand out like sore thumbs.’_

The back of his neck prickles. Something isn't right. 

"Stay close, men," Fox slowly stalks forward and keeps both hands on his holstered pistols.The cold metal brushes against the thin blacks over his hands. The blasters are nestled safely at his hips, but ready to be drawn at a moment's notice. His men, however, have their guns out as they walk into the bar. The citizens inside stare at them as they enter one by one. "They don't seem to be here, sir. Where do you think they could be hiding?" Stone asks into their private channel. "Probably in the back room," Fox responds.

Half of their squad waits on one side of the room with Stone, while the other lines up alongside Fox. Meanwhile, Vos continues to follow the tracks on the floor and walls; closer and closer to where they had stopped. _‘They're inside. If I go in now then the clones won't see me.’_ Vos allows the force to guide him forward. He takes one step, and then another, until finally he stands in front of the metal door. 

It’s quiet on the other side. 

Vos hums in suspicion and gazes up at the keypad.

_‘Code activated.’_ He closes his eyes and touches the keypad softly. Cold visions billow through his mind like misty fog and spindling cobwebs. He sees a man reach for the keypad and input five digits: _‘56810.’_ With his eyes still closed, Vos' fingers uncurl from his palm and began to press each numbered key in the correct order.

The door makes a beeping sound and turns green. _‘Bingo.’_ He smirks and heads inside cautiously. His vigilant light brown eyes sweep across the empty dark room. An abandoned table stands in the corner… drapes across the windows… and there’s nothing else. But Vos _knows_ something- or some _one-_ else is here. It may not look it to others, but Vos can sense their presence. 

_‘Outside?’_ He slowly approaches the window. The drapes sway softly in the evening breeze, and Vos grunts. _‘What? But I felt them–’_ His thoughts freeze. He hears something, far away, ticking and ticking. No. It's loud. Like it's close by. He’s too late. Instantaneously, the door slams shut. Metal boards slide across the windows to block out the night. With the door and windows closed, it plunges the room into complete darkness. Extending his senses, Quinlan feels his way swiftly toward the ticking. He tunes out the banging on the door—no doubt the clones catching on to the trap he's unwittingly sprung—and tries to puzzle out what substances the device is ticking ever closer to releasing… 

_‘Gas,’_ he realizes with a hiss as he lets a hand gingerly rest on the device. The order must have been fed false intel. He snarls as the device ticks further toward releasing whatever is encased. 

Outside, meanwhile, Fox lines the door with explosives while Stone and the team clear the room. _‘Only a Jedi would be foolish enough to get stuck,_ **_alone_ ** _, and without backup,’_ Fox growls to himself and rubs at his hip irately to try to push the dull pain away.

Fox finishes placing the explosives on the door and he snaps, "Get back!" Vos hears a clone yell out and he instantly moves as far away from the door as possible. 

_"Fuck!_ Don't blow it, there’s a bomb!" He tries to warn them as loud as he can. 

However, all of the troopers retreat further and further into the main room before they have had a chance to hear what Vos said. Good thing they got the citizens to vacate the building earlier. The troopers' armor is fortunately strong enough to withstand the force the explosion will generate. Vos curses and turns to face the windows now blocked by thick, metal sheets, then sighs. ‘ _Well, looks like I'll have to get myself out of here.’_

He moves his right foot out in front of his body to steady himself. Then his left foot plants itself against the metal flooring behind him. Vos presses his hands together and moves them to the side. The force distorts outward as he calls it forth, it pulls back in, and wraps itself snug around him like a protective shield. 

"Come on, come on," He grits his teeth. 

Fox kneels down behind a flipped-over table and he looks over at Stone. Stone glances at the button on his wrist and Fox nods sharply, giving him the go ahead to blow the door open. When Vos feels the heavy pressure of the force's energy gather into his hands and he pushes violently outward. The force pushes the metal outwards and it crumbles into itself. The shards break and twist with a sharp crack. Vos can see the outside. But it's not enough. _Again!_

He moves his hands and pushes forward, clammy palms outstretched, for a second time. The metal blows completely off the hinges and clatters to the ground noisily below, like trash can lids getting kicked around. The building is decidedly _not_ short. It stands at four stories tall, a little over 12 meters. 

Vos just so happens to be on the third floor so he knows exactly how high he is and how he should jump out of this window. So with that thought and calculation in mind; he wastes no time dashing straight for the opening and jumps out, just in the nick of time.

The bombs blow up and the leaking gas makes it flare up. It’s a glorious light show of vibrant red and yellow. Loud and undoubtedly grabbing all kinds of attention, particularly unwanted attention, from as far as the eye could see. The fire licks at the sides of the brick and durasteel outside of the window. It crackles and reaches menacingly out for Vos' body. 

Once Vos is in midair, knees tucked in towards his chest and his eyes focused on a spot to land. Using the force to push himself away from the window, he lets it guide him to that spot with ease. 

Perfect timing, due to all of his practice and training. Jumping forward allows his momentum to more easily be dispersed across the ground when he rolls. Vos keeps his knees tucked close to his chest until he feels confident enough to stretch out, though not entirely unfolding himself. His feet come into contact with the ground and he absorbs the impact with his legs to push himself into another roll.

Fox signals the group to follow him in with extra caution. Inexplicable dread fills his stomach. This much destruction couldn't have been caused only by their explosives. "We're not alone, boys." He murmurs in warning. The squad readies their blasters. When the residual smoke clears, they see the torn metal jutting out the window which meant something got out. "Whoever— _or whatever_ —was in here, left that way. We have to follow." Silently then, they hook their descent cables into the wall, and begin the journey down.

In the mist, Quinlan waits. He hears and feels life inching toward him slowly, in hunters' paces. He waits for them to get closer. Waits... draws his lightsaber and...the Jedi almost takes Commander Fox's head off his shoulders. "What are _you_ doing here, Commander?!" He swallows his shock. "You almost killed me back there!!"

Fox raises an eyebrow behind his black visor. _This Jedi has some nerve, asking me that!_ He snorts softly. "What am I doing here? We are here, sent by Chancellor Palpatine, to locate and arrest Pyke Syndicate lackies." A straightforward answer, it still makes the Jedi scoff. Fox lowers his gun minutely and glares at the Jedi, who shouldn’t be able to see his anger-filled gaze anyway. Fox snaps back boldly, "Moreover, the real question is, what are _you_ doing here?" 

Vos raises one eyebrow indifferently. Although, he'll admit he's internally surprised he and the clone, _Fox,_ ended up on the same mission. _Again._ What are the chances? "Same as you," The Jedi snarks. Vos turns around without another word and starts to use the force to sense where the enemy could've gone.

He saunters off, leaving the troopers behind. Fox glances back at the rest of the guards behind them and spun his gloved index finger around twice: a signal to follow Vos closely. Squad and Jedi, slowly walk down a dark alley. The occasional clatter of blasters against their armor can be heard as the troopers check every nook and cranny for anything close to being suspiciously placed. 

Far up ahead, Vos doesn’t wait for the clones to catch up to his longer stride. Fox grunts in annoyance. _‘Damn Jedi.’_ Stone appeared on his right side. "Stay in the rear and make sure nothing happens back there." Fox gave orders. "Yessir." Stone nods tauntly and starts to slow down. 

"Master Vos, do you know where the Pyke Syndicate are currently?" Fox caught up to him just as the Jedi tenses. He nods hesitantly. 

"I've got a lead. But I need you to stay out of my way. Got it?" It’s more of a spiteful order than a question. Vos raises his right hand and lets it trail lightly against the metal garage door as he continues to walk ahead. 

Fox scowls and follows him. 

_‘Like I said. Kriffing Jetii.’_

Vos stops suddenly, a whisper of past conversation flickering from his contact with the wall.

_"You failed to capture the Jedi and employed potential fatal methods. Your usefulness to us is no more,"_ The dark voice, unmistakably one of the Pykes addressing their formerly employed bounty hunter, hisses darkly. Vos focuses his hearing, following the wall, _"No! No please! I can do better! I can-"_

The wall's memory fizzles out as Quinlan stumbles over a body. Their alleged bounty hunter and lead, he supposes. He curses under his breath. Fox catches up, slightly winded and bruised hip protesting, "What is it Sir? What have you found?"

Vos crouches down beside the body and remains silent for a moment. Then he turns to Fox. "Our lead was killed. Seems that something or rather someone did the work for us."

Fox frowns. 

"But we were supposed to bring him in, not return with a corpse and say he was killed by some other person. The Chancellor will not be satisfied with that news," Fox appears on Vos' right side. The Jedi stares at him. 

"Who cares, the _'criminal'_ is dead. The Chancellor should be content with that. Our work here is do-" Vos stops talking and feels something in the force. _The dark side._ It’s suffocating. All around him, coming in waves. He stands up quickly in mild alarm and he becomes more vigilant. Allowing all of his senses to hyper focus on one key point. Down the alley ahead of them. 

Fox studies him cautiously. If the Jedi stops talking in the middle of his sentence then something is up. Fox let’s his hands drift to his pistol subconsciously. The Jedi places his hand back on the wall again and his brows furrow. Stone catches up with them once he notices they'd stopped. 

"Sirs," Stone starts to say but Fox raises his hand. And Stone stops talking immediately. The Jedi is concentrating on something they couldn't see or sense. He needs for it to be quiet. Vos hums to himself, then opens his eyes. "There's something, or _someone,_ else here. Stay close." He warns softly and heads down into the darker parts of the alley between the bricked buildings.

A cunning, feminine voice cuts through the crisp night air, "You're right.... Vos, is it?" The pale Dathomirian woman materializes out of the moonstricken shadows, reaching out to Commander Stone and hurling him aside. He lands with a sickening thud and lies still. Quinlan raises his unlit saber, "If you know what's good for you, witch, you'll come quietly."

A cold laugh precedes her reply, "Quietly? You'll be the one returning quietly... because you and your little _clones_ will be returning in _pieces!"_ She lunges for Vos, who darts quickly out of the way and regains his balance. But Ventress isn’t aiming for him. She’s aiming for the clones. 

Every man yells as they roll out of the way or shoot in her direction, but Ventress is more agile and can hold her own against a couple of puny blasters. She pins one of the unfortunate troopers to the wall with the force and sprints forward with her saber blazing as she impales him through the abdomen.

All the troopers watch in mixed levels of disgust, swallowing back their horror and anger as she kills their teammate. Fox aims and fires at her at a continuous rate. All of the troopers follow suit without hesitation. Ventress jumps and flips mid-air, kicking another trooper in the chin, before landing on her feet with cat-like poise, unopposed. 

He yelps and falls to the ground. Ventress summons her sabers to her hands again and slices at the nearest troopers. Their bodies crumple to the ground as well. Playtime is over. She will cut down anyone in her path if she has to to get what she wants. Fox backs up and looks to Stone’s unmoving body. Ventress, clearly satisfied, turns her attention to Fox just as he grits his teeth and starts shooting at her, but she dodges every plasma bolt. It’s useless. 

She chuckles, and stalks towards him. Unexpectedly, the Jedi stepped out in front of Fox and raised his green lightsaber up. He smirked at Ventress. Fox stared over the Master’s shoulder, surprised that he even stepped up to _protect_ him?

"Why don't you face someone more equal to you, little witch?" Vos keeps his tone teasingly conversational as he parries her strikes, "Surely fighting someone blade to blade is more enjoyable than watching bodies crumple under one blow."

She snarls, "You have no _idea_ what I enjoy, filthy Jedi!" She whirls around, slashing at Vos with one blood-red blade before dodging past him and plunging the other into Fox's still healing hip, sending him to the ground with a high-pitched gasp of agony.

Vos glares daggers at Ventress and twirls his saber in his hand before snarling, "You are going to regret that," He steps forward and closes his grip tighter around the hilt of his saber. _‘I owe him my life…’_ Vos thinks to himself, trembling with stifling anger, _‘No matter that he’s just a clone, I can’t let him die while I **owe** him.’ _

Fox groans and almost flinches away when the heat of the scarlet blade billows past the Jedi protecting him. Ventress leaps over the Jedi and cackles eerily up above.

_‘I guess this is how I go,’_ Fox thinks as he closes his eyes behind his visor against the sight of the murderous woman. Ventress lands on her feet and sprints forward, lightsabers at her side, close to ending him, but Vos puts a stop to it before she even gets within another meter. Vos raises his hand and twists his wrist to the left, away from the Commander, and he yanks down furiously. Ventress, under the influence of the Force, is thrown into the garage door next to her with a metallic rattle.

Fox gritted his teeth through the pain. Vos once again moved himself to block Fox from Ventress' view. Fox stared up at him and then grimaced in pain as the scalding wound, now in his healing wound, burned terribly.

"I said," Vos snarls through his teeth, locking blades with Ventress again and yanking her close, "you'll regret that."

"Oh?" She teases in a lilting singsong voice, "Is that so? Who's going to make me regret it? Surely not you and your little pet… fox, is it?"

The Commander grimaces through the searing agony and twists to look at Stone, who's beginning to stir. _‘Stay down’,_ he pleads silently, _’just stay down.’_

Luckily, Stone seems to sense the ongoing struggle and merely turns his face toward Fox. From what the Head of the Guard can see, he looks disoriented, but generally unharmed. He'll be able to check him over once the battle turns in their favor. Fox struggles to get his good leg under himself to brace himself upright. Maybe he can help.

Vos jolts forward and whips his lightsaber to the side, Ventress lets her hand go with the motion so then she can bounce her lightsaber back up no problem. 

Fox grunts in pain when burning agony flared up, all in his hips like a bomb went off in there, and it's all traveling down his legs. He sank back against the wall in half defeat and trembled. 

Vos glances over his shoulder and then hisses, pushing Ventress back again. She instinctively shifts her right foot behind her body and parries when Vos counters and blocks the attack. His lightsaber slams against hers. Vibrants electric storms of color curl out from their crossed blades, emitting impressive pops and crackles in a striking blend of venom green and scarlet red.

Fox stares, torn between awe and respectful fear at the explosive effect as the two force-wielders' lightsabers crash against one another again and again. Fox takes this as an opportunity to attempt to get up again. He _needs_ to help the Jedi.

Instead of accepting the assistance, Vos roars, "Stay _down_ Commander, " He rotates his wrist, twirling his lightsaber before attempting to swipe Ventress's feet out from under her. She leaps back. The jedi grits his teeth, "You'll only get hurt again." 

Fox grimaces. Vos, to Fox, needs help; and he's not one for sitting idly by while a Jedi is fighting for him. _‘My job is to protect him.’_

Stone murmurs to himself softly and stays absolutely still. Fox is not doing what Stone's doing, sitting still and listening. He instead places his right foot directly on the asphalt, bracing himself to push himself up. He groans in pain. _‘Kriff.’_ His left hip burns and screams in protest as he resolutely pulls his left leg under and forces it to bear his weight. 

Vos notices the slow movement behind him and sighs heavily. Fox’s defiance of his suggestion to stay out of it will get him killed, so Vos settles for forcing him to stay still. 

"That was an order, Commander. Not a”—Vos grunts and slams his saber into the red one — "suggestion!"

Fox stills. He follows orders. He's _never_ defied them. _Ever._ Vos flicks his attention from the trooper to the darksider again and he pushes her back.

Ventress only laughs mockingly. "Does this little fox _mean_ something to you, Vos?" She taunts, voice sickeningly sweet as she whirls expertly away from him and hurls a piece of debris at his head. "Do you want to _protect_ him?" The cruel smirk twisting her lips says that she can sense the Jedi's emotional turmoil, "Such _attachment_ is _hardly_ the Jedi way, Vos."

Fox trembles. 

Vos snarls. "He means _nothing_ to me, witch!" A bitter grimace contorts his face and disgust ripples in his voice, "None of them do." Red and green clash violently together again, "They're only good for getting in my way and slowing me down."

_At least he didn't call us canon fodder,_ Fox thinks grimly to himself, as he looks back over to Stone. He nods… and surges up, firing several rounds in unison with Stone around Vos at Ventress. Their brothers are dead. The two Commanders are all that's left of their team. 

Vos curses under his breath when blue plasma bolts streak past him. “Are you _deaf?!_ I said _stay the kriff down!”_

Ventress launches herself into the air and uses the force to throw more debris at Vos, who slices through the rubble with ease. 

Fox and Stone dodge the flying debris, fingers on the triggers of their blasters and ready to take the next available shots. 

Ventress changes tactics and starts to block the bolts flying over Vos' shoulder and towards her. "Seems your Commanders don't follow orders well, " She giggles in amusement. 

Fox reaches out towards the wall, as his left leg starts to crumple under him. Stone stands up straight, behind and to the right of Vos. The witch smirks devilishly, "Maybe I should take them off your hands." 

Vos's senses sharpen at the warning in her words. Ventress hones in on Fox's weakened state. He’s vulnerable, his body betraying him in the way he tucks a bit close to the garage door on Vos's left.

She smiles. The dark flourishes around her like an ever growing tsunami of evil, billowing clouds of dank hopeless wrath, while she continues to toss bricks and fractured durasteel sheeting at Vos. 

He can feel the dark side licking at the edges of his force signature. It reaches out like claws across the pavement, but not towards him.

He quickly realizes that he isn’t the target… the force whispers that instead, she's aiming for Fox. Her icy blue eyes have flicked away from him and onto the Commander. And her fingers twitch by her side, a tiny detail that Vos would miss if he were any less trained than he is. 

He spins, raises his lightsaber high above his head, and then he slams down. Ventress responds by withdrawing the darkness from its path to Fox quickly and crouching with the force of his impact, their blades come in contact and crackling viciously. 

Vos pushes down on her. Ventress grits her teeth angrily and grunts, strained; she looks for an escape route from her predicament, taking precious seconds until she finds it. First, to get out, she curls her legs towards her chest and launches herself into the air, kicking out at his chest hard with both feet. 

The heels of her boots catch Vos in the ribs.

_No!_ Fox grimaces and stumbles, crashing to his knees and drawing the witch's attention again. She deftly joins her twin sabers, forming a single double blade to keep Vos distracted, and reaches out with a tendril of darkness again. What she finds in the emotional state of the wounded Commander surprises her enough for her to lower her guard.

"You're _hurt_ that he doesn't care about the safety of yourself and your brothers!" She exclaims with a cackle, "Oh that is _delicious._ He doesn't care, but you'll die for him anyway, won't you, little fox?"

With a heave, she hurls Vos away and stalks toward the injured Commander, deflecting the shots fired from both clones with practiced ease. "You're going to _die_ little Fox," she taunts, "and no one will mourn you. Least of all your precious _Jedi!”_ She screeches as Vos lunges for her again, desperately trying to pull her attention again.

_Damned Clone should just stay down,’_ he curses to himself, blocking the enraged flurry of blows she rains down on him. She howls as Stone finally gets in a lucky shot, but not before she lifts Fox with the force and hurls him bodily into the wall. The back of his head crashes into unyielding metal and duracrete, and his vision goes dark.


	2. Chapter Two: Life Debt Repaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fox wakes up, for a little while, and Quinlan has to make a decision.

Darkness. Distant. Cold. His head hurts badly. Fox isn't sure what happened. All he remembers swirls blurry and vague in his mind—an angry pale skinned woman, and then…and then getting flung against something unyielding and reverberative.

It had hurt like nothing he’d experienced before, had knocked him out like a light. 

He feels something warm press against his face and he blearily opens his eyes to stare directly—too closely—at someone’s fluffy black hair. It tickles his nose. Fox turns his face and regrets it instantly as pain shoots through his head. He hisses and presses his face again into whoever's curls again. There's a smooth voice, modified by a vocalizer, ahead of him. The person carrying him stops walking for a moment. 

"Hey, you're awake. Don't move your head, you hit it pretty hard, okay vod? " The person starts to walk again. 

_Stone._

"Hmm." Fox groans and slumps his body against him in exhaustion. There's someone next to him. Walking. He peeks through one eye at the other man. Brown skin and long, dark dreadlocks, dark brown eyes, flecked through with gold. Tan skin. A yellow stripe across his face, the marks probably indicative of his culture, or tribe; they reach from his right ear all the way across the bridge of his nose to his left ear. 

Fox stares at him questioningly. _‘Damn, who is he again?’_ He purses his lips in thought, his mind in hyperdrive to figure out the last piece of the puzzle. Still, the identification or name of this man seems to escape him. Fox lets his eyes drift closed again. If he and Stone had been accompanying a Jedi, that would explain the pounding in his head, but not the searing burn in his hip.

"How much do you remember?" Stone asks softly, carefully adjusting his grip on Fox to hold him more securely.

The head Commander tries to remember. "We were investigating a lead on the Pykes..." he trails off, before adding quietly only for Stone's ears, "Who's the Jetii?"

Stone sighs. If Fox doesn't remember Vos, then that's a problem. Stone shifts his weight again and looks to the Jedi. 

"If you don't remember Master Vos then I think you've got a concussion. _Again,_ vod," Stone exhales in short puffs. 

"Oh... a-again?" Fox peers at him from over his shoulder.

Stone chuckles softly. "Yes. Again, " 

Fox leans his head against his shoulder again and murmurs. "I can walk by myself, Stone. I don't need help." 

That elicits a snort, "Yeah, fat chance! You will hold onto me and you will not walk by yourself, okay." Stone shifts his hands once more because they started to cramp up a bit from the weird angle. 

"Hmph. Fine, " Fox turns his head away from the Jedi, _Vos_ , and over to figure out where they are exactly. He doesn't really recognize this area. 

"Where are we?" Fox asks Stone curiously.

It's Vos who answers, on edge, "We're in the lower levels. Ventress caught us off guard. The rest of your team didn't make it."

_The rest..._ "How many?" Fox asks, anxiety spiking through his veins. He subconsciously tightens his grip on Stone, "How many vode?"

The other Commander sighs. "Hale, Navy, Dash, and Pulse." Fox goes silent, leaning his forehead into Stone's shoulder. Stone shudders. "A couple of shinies who didn't have names yet."

Fox remains silent. 

Seething anger boils within his veins, floods his body and moves throughout. His chest tightens in heartache and it _hurts._ The desire to cry twists unpleasantly in his throat, but he can't shed a tear, not yet anyways, with the Jedi there.

They lost so many and only he and Stone made it out, along with this Jedi… Why?! Their vode didn't deserve that. They didn't deserve to be broken and cut down like they didn’t matter, but there was nothing they could do. Fox curls against Stone's back and tucks his face into his neck. 

Even if Fox is good at hiding his true emotions and how he really feels, the Jedi could still feel it, hovering around his entire form and suffocating his thoughts. Angry, red waves licking his thoughts and sparking around from every crevice. 

Vos watches as the tips of his energy curl and flick out at the air, like a horde of flailing tentacles. 

"Where are we going to go now? Back to the Chancellor? We failed the mission. The only thing we've achieved is disappointment,” Fox groans through the pain.

Vos narrows his eyes. "You need medical attention," he begins, "you shouldn't have even been out here to begin with in your weakened state, and Ventress took advantage of that. You're going straight to a medic to get fixed up."

_‘You saved me on Naboo, we're even now,’_ Vos thinks to himself.

Fox doesn't say anything, hoping he can pretend to be unconscious at least until they make it back topside.The three of them travel all the way to Vos' shuttle. Fox registers the sound of feet pounding against metal. _‘We made it to his ship.’_

The shuttle is a bit cold inside so Fox shivers slightly. Stone can feel every tremble as he slowly places Fox on the bench seat in the middle section of the shuttle. Then he sits beside him. Fox groans when he feels the cold metal dig into his backside, Stone keeps him still. "Stop moving, remember, you have a concussion. Okay, " His hand brushes his forearm. 

Fox nods slowly and closes his eyes again. So Stone takes that as an opportunity to head up to the cockpit of the shuttle and check in with Vos. Stone leans against the wall behind the Jedi's seat. 

Vos presses a couple buttons and the shuttle comes to life. The sound of its engines reminds Stone of the act of simply breathing in and out. 

"What are we going to do? Fox is right, we failed the mission. How are we supposed to go back to the Chancellor and tell him that we did not catch the lead?"

Vos's fingers tighten almost imperceptibly on the steering wheel. "There's also the matter of _Ventress_ being on Coruscant," he mutters, "a little more pressing than a drug ring, if you ask me."

Stone curls his hands to fists at his sides. "Why do you hate us?!" He finally bursts, swallowing and steadying his breathing before asking again, "Why?"

Vos glares out the viewport. "There's just something about _your kind_ that's incredibly off-putting."

"We didn't _ask_ for your permission to be born, Sir," Stone snarks quietly, unsure if he wants Vos to hear him or not. He makes his way back to tend to the injured Commander. "I am… grateful, regardless of your reasoning, for you protecting Commander Fox."

Vos remains silent for a couple seconds and Stone actually thinks he's not going to respond, so he turns to walk away but…

"Yeah… whatever, " Vos finally answers. Stone stops in the doorway. Staring directly at the floor. He sighs quietly, exits the cockpit, and walks towards the middle section of the ship. 

There are bright lights hanging right over his vod. The sight that meets Stone makes him hurry over in concern.

Fox is curled in onto him in the center of the cot. Knees tucked a bit close to his chest, his eyes are clenched shut very tightly and he seems to be focusing hard on breathing. 

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" Stone sits down on the seat beside the cot. Fox stares at him for a dreadful, long 10 seconds. Then he closes his eyes, which one pupil is bigger than the other; and his face scrunches up in discomfort. 

"Mmm. Mm ‘m head~" Fox winces when a sharp lightning bolt of pain strikes through the middle of his skull. It feels like his head is getting ripped into two pieces.

Stone searches for a med-kit in the room and his eyes land on a small white kit with a red Cross on it. _Bingo._ He hurries over to it, grabs the kit, and returns to Fox's side so fast it was like he never left.

"Okay, Fox. Okay. Look, I've got a med-kit and I think you hit your head pretty hard; but it's fine. I'll just check and make sure you aren't bleeding, or there aren't any knots or bruises, alright, " 

Fox nods very very slowly. It literally feels like everything's spinning, or rocking? Force, he's not sure anymore. Up feels like down. And down is… is up? 

_"S-St-Stoneee,"_ Fox does not like this. ‘ _What the kriff is wrong with the ceiling?’_

"Hey, easy, Commander. _Udesii._ I'll get you fixed up _Fox'ika_. You just have to hold on until we get back to the medical station." Stone plucks the medical scanner from the bundle and worries about the inside of his cheek.

_Concussion._

_Severe burn through the hip._

_Likely permanent nerve damage._

The last item blinking on the scanner has Stone's heart-rate ticking up. 

_Brain bleed. Urgent medical intervention necessary._

Fox blinks at the wavering figure, above him? _The kriff._ No, beside him. His head is pounding. Something has to be wrong here. He knows that look on Stone's face. 

_“S-Ston-Stoneeee…"_ He tries to reach for him but ultimately fails in doing so. It's a simple task. So why couldn't he do it? _Ah. It hurts to think too much._ Stone places his hand back on the cot and shakes his head. 

"Wha… what's wrong?" Fox asks. He moves to sit up but Stone gently presses him back down. If he told him what was wrong he'd panic.

"No no, lay back down Fox'ika. You are going to hurt yourself m-" Fox interrupts him with a groan of discomfort when his limbs are bombarded by a terrible tingly sensation that rolls all up and down his arms. 

Fox trembles and squeezes his eyes shut in pain, tossing his head back and grinding his molars against each other. His throat is so dry, it feels like sandpaper, and this burning pain resonated from all on the sides of his skull.

"Fox, stop, stop!" Stone places his hands on his arms and keeps him from moving again in a way that may injure him further. Fox's breathing picks up suddenly when he feels pressure on his arms.

"Shit," Stone brushes a hand down the side of his face. "Okay, okay, shh. _Udesii, vod._ Shh." 

Fox whimpers in response,“It _hurts._ It **burns**.” He slurs on the last bit uncontrollably. He's feeling a bit lethargic. 

Sweat pours down Fox’s face and neck. Stone glances over his shoulder. "Master Vos! Vos! There's something wrong with him," He calls for the Jedi.

After switching on autopilot, Vos stands. He reaches out with the force and almost recoils. They're going to lose him.

"No, no, no, no. You don't get to die, not when I still owe you for Naboo," Vos growls to himself in frustration. "Activate the emergency medical holo-droid," he snaps.

Static for a moment, then a tinny voice asks, "How may I assist you?"

"Save him. I don't care what it takes, just save him!" Vos's voice cracks. ‘ _Don't die on me, you bastard, you're not allowed to die on me!’_

Fox whines in agony. His head hurts so bad that his entire body vibrates. Stone holds him down the best he can. 

"Vod, vod, it's alright." He tries to comfort him. But Fox attempts to move away from Stone, he couldn't go anywhere though. "Ughh!" Fox groans and coughs. His mind is ravaged by wildfires within his skull, so many ember-like-pain float and singe the inside of his membrane. 

"Keep him still," Vos orders while he tries his best to gently place his own hands down upon the trooper's left arm. Stone hisses, "I am trying." He holds his right arm down. 

The droid finishes its scan and starts to speak again. "The patient has a brain hemorrhage. Pressure is increasing inside his skull.” The droid scans Fox's arm.

"Blood pressure has dropped to 72/48 mm Hg. The patient will need to be tested periodically until he is in a proper medical Center."

Vos growls under his breath. "Okay, but can you help him here, now?" His patience is wearing thin. Pain contorts Fox’s face. His skin glistens under the artificial light. 

_‘He can't die.’_

The droid ignores Vos’ question and instead continues working on the patient. It rolls around the bed to sit in front of Fox's head as he moans in pain. 

"I will have to perform a Computerized Tomography scan to reveal the internal bleeding." A blue light originates from the bot's central core and cascades down Fox's body. Stone holds his right hand gently. He is clearly allowing his concern to show; but Vos on the other hand is trying not to show he's absolutely worried. The scan completes and the droid processes the new information.

"The size of the bleeding is not large, but it's subdural where it could cause permanent damage. The patient will likely not need surgery. He might need a shunt to relieve the blood from his cranial cavity as soon as possible if he is to survive without crippling neurological impact."

Stone looks to Vos. "Can't you help him now? Heal him, or something?" He hopes that Vos will be willing to help his vod.

"I'm not a healer!" Vos protests before he can reign himself in. "I'm a tracker!"

Stone almost explodes. "You're a _Jedi!_ Surely you can do _something!"_

Vos reaches out, not yet touching him. Hesitating. "I'll have to touch him..."

Stone fidgets impatiently. "Well why aren't you doing anything yet?! He's going to _die!"_

Curling his hand into a fist; Vos narrows his eyes at the panicked Commander while the man sprawled on the small medical bed has gone deathly still. He growls, one last time, at Stone, "I'm _not_ a healer. I might be able to stem the bleeding, but it'll be a patch job at best. I'm not…" he trails off, "I'm not powerful enough to heal something like this."

Stone glares daggers at him. He sucks in a sharp inhale before he hisses, "That's bullshit. I've seen you use the 'force' and you seem to be powerful enough. There's gotta be some way to help him, heal him or something." He grits his teeth. 

Vos jerks his chin up and seethes with annoyance and anger. "You don't understand, healing someone doesn’t come naturally to all Jedi! The healers at the temple have trained for _years_ to be able to do it but any Jedi not trained in healing risks their own life when they attempt to heal someone." He gazes down at the cot under his fingers and sighs. "It can end up killing me if I don't do it right, if we hurry then we can get him to a med-bay quickly." 

Stone is no longer looking at him. 

"Fox? Fox!" Stone realizes his brother is not moving at all. He looks about dead. Stone makes an aborted move to touch him, "Haar'chak!"

Fox whimpers senselessly to himself and his head lists to one side. Away from Stone, who touches his chin.

"He's unresponsive." Stone presses his fingers against the pulse in his wrist. "We are losing him, Vos! Vos. Look, just try, please. He's going to die if you don't do this. Please help him, " Stone pleads. His golden eyes are filled with dread, panic, concern, and fear. 

_‘He will die. I have to decide now what I'll do.’_ Vos' eyes glance from Stone to Fox. His pale skin contrasts to the silver bed he laid upon. The air roughly wheezes out of him like there's something sitting on top of his chest. His lips are beginning to turn blue—the first stages of cyanosis due to oxygen deprivation. 

Vos steadies himself and regains the confidence to do something about this. He wants to save Fox and he will. It won't be easy but he’ll manage.

Stone watches grimly as the Jedi splays a hand over Fox's temple. Furrowing his eyebrows in concentration, Vos hones in on the bruised, bleeding vessels in the Commander's brain. He begs and coaxes them to heal, and slowly, very slowly, they respond, knitting themselves back together and resorbing the blood.

Beads of sweat roll down his face and he keeps his eyes squeezed shut in focus. _'Heal,_ **_please_ ** _heal!'_ Vos begs the force for help. _'He saved me once, I_ **_owe_ ** _him. Please save him-'_

Ever so slowly, Fox's blood pressure restores to safe levels and his pulse returns. Vos collapses in the chair next to the bed, and promptly falls asleep from the strain of healing—when, as he'd said so many times, healing wasn't something he'd trained for.

"Vos? Master Vos!" Stone starts to stand and prepares to walk around the medical cot but Vos holds up one finger, which makes him freeze. 

"I am fine… 'm just tired, " Vos whispers. His finger lowers and flops beside him. Vos starts to fall asleep again. His head throbs just a bit, but it's pretty minor. He just feels really drained. 

Stone stares at him, hovering close. He tries to decide whether he should still check on Vos and not listen to him, or check on Fox and make sure he's okay. He goes for the latter.

"Fox? _Vod?_ Are you okay," Stone asks and touches his face. The Commander reaches down to take his pulse. Fox stirs. "Fox, are you feeling okay?"

Fox opens his eyes and smacks his lips a bit to rid himself of the chapped texture. He turns his head up and spots Stone above him. Fox blinks. He feels something warm beside him and looks to his left to see the Jedi; his head tucked close to his thigh and his eyes are closed. 

Each breath that exits out of Vos' nose brushes against his knee, tickling him. Suddenly Fox feels warm affection wash over him. A tiny blush crosses over his features and then he turns back to Stone questioningly.

"What happened," He asks.

"You… well. You weren't going to make it so he saved you." Stone fidgets, "He did some Jedi…" the Commander waves his hands, "and you stabilized. He says he's just tired. The scanner isn't picking up anything wrong with him, so I think he'll be okay."

When Fox tries to sit up Stone presses him gently back down onto the bed. "You need your rest. We'll go to the medical station within an hour; so try to stay put until we can get you both transferred."

Fox growls in annoyance but Stone's expression silences him. 

"Fine." Fox settles into the cot and Stone nods. 

"Thank you." Stone shakes his head with a small smile and walks away to the cockpit. Leaving Fox alone with sleeping and exhausted Vos. Fox huffs and turns his head to the right. Completely ignoring the fact that the Jedi is very close to him. Fox sighs and shifts _._ He knows that Vos is right next to him, generating his own body heat, and his breaths still float along until they tickle Fox’s left thigh constantly. Fox couldn’t fight it any longer. He has to turn around.

The cot squeaks under his weight as Fox turns over and faces the Jedi. With studious eyes, Fox takes in every detail. Vos’ locks fall across his forehead and cover half of his face. His eye lashes are long and flutter every so often, and he looks so relaxed. Fox feels the muscles in his jaw twitch up in fondness. ‘ _I've never seen this side of the Jedi before. So…innocent. Quiet. Not making any snobby remarks.’_

He notices that his fingers are so close to Vos'. One move could let them touch each other. Fox's index finger twitches reflexively to close the contiguity.

_'I wonder…'_ Fox barely finishes the thought before his knuckle brushes against the back of Vos' hand. The Commander shivers. _'His hand feels like one of ours,'_ He realizes to himself. Fox briefly fights the urge to wrap his hand around the Jedi's.

Instead, he contents himself with tracing the pattern of veins in the slightly lighter skin on the inside of Vos's wrist. _'He's like us,'_ Fox jolts, _'he doesn't trust us, we don't trust him—but he saved my life when he didn't have to.'_

Ruffled with new confusion, he retracts his hand, edges away from the Jedi, rolls over, and tries to go back to sleep.

Slowly he wakes up again, blearily blinking his eyes open one at a time. Dimmed lights shine down from above him. His mind feels submerged in a fog of forgetfulness. _What happened?_ The sounds of ventilators to his left attracts his attention, and Fox spots the double doors. These doors have a different design. 

_‘Not on the shuttle.’_

Fox's fingers quiver and he looks down at them. The phantom sensation of Vos' fingers linger on his very fingertips. _Cold._ He closes his eyes in discontent. 

_‘He's not here anymore.’_

It’s dark. Then Fox sees the ceiling again. and he curls into himself under the thin white sheets. Fox's calloused fingers continue to make small fluttering motions. A faint emptiness opens achingly in his chest like a black hole.

Fox realizes what that feeling is. 

_‘I miss him…’_

His heart skips a beat at the epiphany. 

_‘No!’_ Fox shakes his head quickly to rid himself of the ridiculous thought. _‘I can't miss him! I don't…’_ He unfolds himself from his curled position and sits up instantly. 

_‘I don't.’_ He insists to himself again as if repetition will make it stick. 

His blazing eyes sweep across the room. He raises his hands out in front of him and stares at them. His fingers clench closed. 

_‘I should thank him… for saving me. It's the right thing to do.’_

Tracking down a Jedi Master is difficult. Tracking down a Jedi _Shadow,_ it turns out, is infinitely more difficult. Fox is growing ever more frustrated with his failed attempts at finding the ‘not-General’ to thank him for saving his life.

It's only after Wolffe messages him on his datapad with a tip that General Plo was seen speaking to Vos in front of the temple within the last half an hour. _Finally,_ maybe he can catch the elusive Jedi and express his gratitude.

Vos spots him immediately, of course he does, but the older Kel Dor Master has a way of keeping the younger Master's engaged and refusing to let the conversation close.

By the time Vos is able to duck away, he almost tramples Fox in his haste to leave. The Commander reaches out and catches his elbow, letting go almost immediately. "Sir-"

"Don't call me that."

_"Sir!"_ Fox insists with snark that most vode would never dare take with a Jedi, "I never got to see you after the events of our accidental last mission, and I owe you my thanks."

Vos freezes immediately. Fox clenches his fists by his side and sighs. The other man slowly turns around and gives him a certain look of disbelief and amusement. 

"So… thank you. For what you did back there." 

Vos's expression shifts to something else. He inwardly shrinks back into himself and raises his mental walls. Then he huffs. 

"You're welcome," Vos looks away. Then his eyes flick back up to Fox again. "You know, I hope we never run into each other again, right?" 

Fox feels his lips twitch up because that's exactly what he wished for as well. Never to see this di'kut of a Jedi again. Or at least, half of him wants that anyways. 

"Well, the feeling is mutual, sir." Fox retorts. Hard burnt-gold eyes soften visibly at Fox’s banter. He turns and tilts his chin down in farewell. 

"I am glad. See ya around, _or not,_ Commander." He raises his right hand and throws him a civil wave goodbye and fully turns his back to Fox to head off on his next assignment. 

Fox watches him go. The sunset's rays bounce off of Quinlan’s armor, making him look like a god from one of the tales he’s occasionally heard civilian parents tell their younglings, and the sky is painted in blood red with a swipe of golden orange. It bathes Fox’s scarlet accented armor in a sea of red, even staining his white shoulder guards and chest plate.

As if sensing the Commander's gaze, Vos turns one last time before throwing him a smirk and a jaunty salute and melting mysteriously into the shadows of Coruscant.

An odd emotion flickers in Fox's chest, but he resolutely pushes it away. _'I'll probably never see him again,'_ he thinks to himself. The thought makes him inexplicably sad as he turns toward the Senate building—back to hellish work and endless hours toiling over correcting others' ignorant mistakes. He sighs.

_'I'll probably never see him again.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a translation:  
> vod- brother/close friend  
> vode- brothers  
> jetii- Jedi  
> udesii- easy, take it easy  
> haar'chak- damn it

**Author's Note:**

> I may need help continuing this story, so if anyone would like to volunteer in helping me, please contact me immediately!
> 
> Thank you!


End file.
